


Post Mortem

by OptimisticJamie



Series: Anea Lavellan [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Attempt at Humor, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-01 22:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4037383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OptimisticJamie/pseuds/OptimisticJamie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slow burn romance fic between Inquisitor Anea Lavellan and Cullen Rutherford</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Anea finds herself a prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> Post Mortem is a slow-burn romance fic centering around my Lavellan Inquisitor Anea (ah-NN-yey) and Cullen. 
> 
> I am not comfortable with writing smut so there will be no smutty scenes. There might be build-up to smut that could be seen as more fluff than smut but that's what I'll do. 
> 
> Written in Inquisiton time frame.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Begging for her life was not how she pictured the end of the day, or any day for that matter, but here she was, chained in what looked like a dungeon, her left hand burning to the point of pain.

Spiders. Big spiders. Oh sweet Sylaise why did it have to be spiders? She was reaching out, her palm tingling with the numbness of pins and needles when she remembered collapsing face first onto the ground, barely managing to save her nose in the process. 

 

Begging for her life was not how she pictured the end of the day, or any day for that matter, but here she was, chained in what looked like a dungeon, her left hand burning to the point of pain. Cassandra, she had heard the other woman call her, was not letting up on her questions and blaming. 

“Do you remember what happened?” The hooded woman asked, she towered over the prisoner just as easily as Cassandra, but she seemed a little less intimidating. There was no doubt, however, that this woman could just as swiftly kill her. 

The prisoner shook her head. “I’ve already told you! All I can remember is running, running from…from—“ she shuddered at the memory of the spiders, “I remember a woman reached out to me, helping me I think?”

“What woman?” Cassandra pressed.

“I don’t know!” The prisoner exclaimed. Her palm shot needles of pain up her arm and she yelped. 

“Leliana, just got to the forward camp. I’ll take her.” Cassandra said to the hooded woman. 

Leliana nodded once and turned to leave. Cassandra marched up to the prisoner and unchained her shackles from the floor. The prisoner watched Cassandra intently just as Cassandra watched her.  
Dalish; possibly as old as herself, maybe older. Cassandra deduced the prisoner was closer to the Commander’s age. Vallaslin marked her left eye, as well as a long scar that ran from her brow to her cheek, cutting across the tattoo, deforming it slightly. A few more scars scattered across her face, one cut her bottom lip and split her chin, while another curved under her right cheek. The prisoner’s eyes were green, golden brown ringed and green closer to the pupil.

They stared at Cassandra with equal intensity. She was studying her as if she was studying a hunt. 

“What happened?” The prisoner asked. 

Cassandra pulled her to her feet. She was wobbly and unsure, clenching and unclenching her marked fist in pain. “I’m going to show you.”

Stepping outside was a bad idea. It was cold and her tattered cloak did nothing to stave off the chill that leeched into her bones. Most noticeable about what was outside though, was the giant gapping green hole in the sky. It pulsed and rotated with an unsettling ease.

“The breach. A rift through which demons flow mercilessly.” Cassandra explained.

“Charming.” The prisoner said flatly. 

“This is the biggest breach. It was caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”

“What? An explosion can’t do that!” 

“This one did.”

A jolt in the Breach’s rotation caused the mark on her hand to flare white hot, causing her to scream and drop to her knees. She rubbed her hand against her pants, hoping to rid herself of the pain.

“We must go.” Cassandra hauled her to her feet and cut the ropes. 

“To do what?”

“We need to test your mark. A friend has a plan on how to close the Breach.” 

They set off at a steady walk; the prisoner still couldn’t walk on her feet properly. _What if something happened to my legs?_ She thought as she followed Cassandra. As they walked someone spat at her feet. She stopped abruptly and tried to find the culprit, only to be greeted by the angry gazes of several people, all in different stages of panic and fear.

“Traitorous Knife-ear!” Someone yelled. The prisoner’s temper boiled under her skin and she sneered in the direction of the slur. Cassandra grabbed her shoulder firmly and pulled her back from the crowd, shaking her head. 

“Give them someone to blame till we can prove otherwise.” She advised. 

“That someone is me, and I do not know how this happened, or how I survived.”  
“People say you walked out of the fade, fell unconscious, and a woman was standing behind you. They believe it was Andraste.”

The prisoner scoffed. “A god I don’t believe in.”

“You may not, but they do. Let them think.”

They continued on, they were crossing a bridge when something shot from the Breach, turning the bridge to rubble. Both Cassandra and the prisoner yelled in fright as they went tumbling down with the broken stone.  
The prisoner thanked every Dalish god she knew that her hands were now unbound. She used this freedom to break her fall and roll onto her side, groaning with pain from the sudden jolt to her shoulders. 

Cassandra was already on her feet and loosed a savage war cry that stunned this _thing_ that had crept up on them. The prisoner yelped and scrambled backwards away from it as Cassandra attacked it. 

Suddenly at her feet the prisoner noticed the ground start to bubble and shift, green mist flooding around it. Her eyes widened as she realized what that meant and she looked around for a weapon, any weapon. A Mage’s staff would do for that moment, certain that even a piece of wood that sturdy could break ribs when enough force was put behind it.  
Looking over her shoulder she found what she was looking for, a bow. She blinked dumbly. What were the chances that her preferred weapon would be sitting right there, just waiting for her to use it. She blinked again and reached out to grab it, finding a quiver of arrows a little further away, this looked a little more believable for the quiver was caked in blood and looked about to fall apart. 

She grabbed the bow and strung an arrow just as a demon burst from the bubbling ground, she sent a well aimed arrow right between its eyes with enough force behind the projectile that it passed clean through the creature’s head taking some of, what she assumed, was the creature’s skull with it. That’s when she looked at the bow again; it looked familiar, as if she knew the original owner. Her heart leapt into her throat when she put the dots together.

“Drop you weapon!” Cassandra yelled, pointing her long sword at the prisoner’s throat.

The prisoner could do nothing but gape, her mouth working to speak but nothing came out.

“Drop it!” Cassandra said again.

This time she found her voice; “This is my brother’s bow!” She yelled, promptly dropping it when Cassandra moved closer.  
“Your brother?” 

“Yes, my brother! I remember we both came to Haven for…something and he brought his bow as I brought mine!” The prisoner exclaimed, pointing to the aforementioned weapon now lying on the ground.

“We never found a weapon on you.” Cassandra explained. “What’s your brother’s name?”

The prisoner paused for a moment, wondering if it were safe to tell Cassandra family information that could mean, if he was alive, he’d be punished too. She cleared her throat. “Vol Strausse Lavellan. My younger brother.”

Cassandra stood for a moment, and then lowered her weapon. She had heard of Vol Lavellan. A formidable hunter, just like his older sister, but obviously not quiet enough to miss being gossiped about. Cassandra narrowed her eyes then said; “What are you called?”

“Anea Di’halle Lavellan.” 

“You can keep your weapon, I have to remember that I cannot protect the both of us and you followed me out of your own free will.” 

“Do you know where my brother is?” Anea pressed, her short hair was whipped by the wind of another blast from the Breach. Anea screamed and clutched her left hand; she dropped to one knee and panted till the pain subsided, though it did not go away.

Cassandra watched her. “I do not know where your brother is, nor if he is still alive. We must get to the Breach first, we must find Solas.” 

“Who?” Just then a war cry echoed from somewhere ahead. Anea looked up and saw more things, demons she concluded, coming towards them. They swung their hands as if swimming; one suddenly dropped into the ground and disappeared.  
“Did you—“ She started to say when she was knocked flat on her back, the tree-demon—Anea called it for it looked like a tree, or a lizard she didn’t care right now—had reemerged from the ground and started screaming, a shrill noise that rendered Anea’s limbs useless. She started panicking, filling with terror as she tried to notch another arrow and kill this thing.

A wave of magic or power slammed into her just as she let the arrow fly and she missed by less than a centimeter, immediately she notched another and let it loose again. This time it jammed into the demon’s skull. The demon seemed enraged by this. It turned and snarled at her.

Cassandra was busy with the swimming cloaked demons, Anea was on her own. She didn’t like being on the ground, being smaller than her target. She wanted to get up high, away from these demons so she could pick them off easier, but she did not have that luxury right now. 

Firing another arrow, this time with more force behind it, she aimed for the creature’s eyes. The arrow drove home and buried itself halfway up the shaft. The demon shuddered once then collapsed. Anea watched as its body was sucked back into the Breach. She let out the breath she was holding.

“What was that?” She asked Cassandra once the warrior had returned to her.

“We are calling it a Terror. So far we have encountered three such Terrors, a Lesser Terror, a Terror and a Greater Terror.” Cassandra explained.

“And that one was…?” Anea panted, slinging the bow over her shoulder.

“That was a Lesser Terror.” 

Anea gave out a mocking cough laugh, trying and failing to mask her fear. “And those swimming things?”

“Shades.”

“Are there three types of shades?”

“Yes.”

Anea groaned when Cassandra set off at a steady jog, leading Anea to the rift they were trying to reach. As they ran several Shades caught their attention, Anea tried to shoot each one but her arrows were running out fast, even if she had time to collect her used arrows she doubted they’d be much good. She had seen several of them snap on impact. She growled _I could make better arrows than these._ She complained.

They neared the rift just as another wave of demons came flooding out. Anea surveyed them quickly. _Well damn. I’m not going home tonight._


	2. Dwarves, Elves, and Bianca

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anea stared at him before looking around; there was no one else around. Who the hell is Bianca?

Fighting through waves of demons was easier said than done. Anea rolled across the frozen lake, her tattered shirt lifting in the process. The sweat from Anea’s back caused her skin to stick to the ice, but her momentum was too fast for her to be hindered. She groaned in pain as her back was ripped from the ice.   
Having no time to check the damage she loosed another arrow in the general direction of a shade and was pleased when she saw the arrow pass through the shade’s chest and into the body of another shade behind it. 

“Ha ha!” She whooped triumphantly, only to be cut off by Cassandra yelling at her to follow.

Anea followed Cassandra up a snow-covered staircase, struggling to keep her footing on the slick ice. As they reached the top Anea stopped dead, eyes wide. In front of her floating in the air as if it was a child’s attempt at painting a tree on a paint master’s canvas was a rift.   
Crystallised shards were jutting out of it, moving and retreating as waves of demons passed harmlessly through it. Amidst the chaos was a broad shouldered dwarf staring down the creatures with no fear. He wielded a crossbow, Anea could see the rebound of the weapon affecting his arms, but he stood firm. A little ways from the dwarf were a few soldiers, they looked totally unprepared for what they were fighting, their fear was as evident as Anea’s, it radiated off them in waves, making her feel sick. 

Anea had barely any time to choose a target before Cassandra plunged into battle. The dwarf gave a cheer of welcome that was quickly drowned out from the noise of the battle. Anea strung her bow and found a position above the chaos on a broken stone wall, she proceeded to pick off the demons, pulling hard on the bowstring; knowing full well it wouldn’t fail her.

She opened her mouth to cheer when all the demons fell when suddenly someone grabbed her marked hand by the wrist. 

“Hey!” She started but was silenced when the elf glared. He was bald, a fact Anea found rather funny after seeing so many demons. He was also much taller than her, by a foot at least, and he scared her.

“Quickly, we must close it!” He pulled her unceremoniously towards the rift and held her palm up towards it. Anea felt a wave of magic wash over her and exit through her palm.   
She screamed in pain as a bridge of green light shot from her palm to the rift and back. The heat was unbearable and her eyes watered from the pain. She bit her tongue in an attempt to silence her screams but was only met with the metallic taste of blood. 

Suddenly it was over. The rift closed with an almighty crash and Anea fell to her knees, clutching her hand trying to suppress her sobs.   
After a few moments the pain subsided and she moved to touch her tongue with her right hand. It came back bloody. She spat a globule of blood onto the snow where it sat guiltily. 

“Hey thanks, arse. What the hell did you do!?” She yelled accusingly, glaring at the Elvin mage. 

He didn’t even flinch when he spoke; “I did not do that.”

“And I’m a Shem.” Anea spat.

“Then in that case this would be very awkward news, for it wasn’t me who caused the rift to close, but your mark.” 

Anea was silent.

“The magic that opened the Breach also caused that mark to appear on your hand. While you were asleep I gathered information in order to theorise that we could close the Breach and other rifts using that mark.” He paused before continuing; “It seems my theory was correct.”

Cassandra came forward and looked like she was about to say something when he dwarf Anea had completely forgotten about spoke up; “Oh that’s great news.” He came over, his crossbow now slung across his back.   
He approached Anea, who was now getting to her feet, and held out a hand; “Varric Tethras. Rogue, author and Cassandra’s unwelcome tag along.”

Anea shook his hand “Anea Lavellan. Rogue, hunter, and currently Cassandra’s prisoner.”

Varric laughed; “That is Solas—“

“I am perfectly capable of introducing myself, Varric.” Solas quipped.

“I don’t see you doing just that.” 

Solas turned to Anea, “Yes he speaks truth. My name is Solas. I am pleased that you are still alive. Your mark was an unusual thing to study, I had to keep it from killing you while you slept.”

Anea’s throat went dry. From the moment she had seen Solas she had been hostile and unwelcoming, yet he seemed to give her more reason for trusting him than Varric did. 

She swallowed, a futile attempt at lubricating her throat again; “I owe you my thanks, and my apologies.” She nodded curtly.   
Solas smiled; “don’t thank me just yet, but your apologies are welcome.”

Anea turned back to Varric and Cassandra just as they were beginning to get into a heated discussion. 

“You need me.” Varric said finally. Cassandra scoffed and threw her arms down, shaking her head. 

“Fine.” She walked away from Varric as Anea cocked an eyebrow, wanting an explanation. She didn’t get one. “We need to get to the forward camp immediately. Leliana and Cullen are already there, no doubt having trouble fighting against waves of demons.”

“And just how are four people meant to help?” Anea questioned. She wanted to go home, she wanted to find her brother, not go gallivanting into battle against creatures from the Fade. Besides, if a giant spider turned up he doubted she’d be of much use.

“You’d be surprised with how little is needed to turn the tide of a battle.” Solas explained. 

Varric fell in step behind Cassandra; “At least Bianca’s excited.”

Anea stared at him before looking around; there was no one else around. _Who the hell is Bianca?_ She followed Solas, taking another look over her shoulder in the hopes a familiar face would be seen.

No such face was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow going right now but I have to get this first battle out of the way before I can start to get into playful banter and explaining why the hell Anea's brother was with her, and where the hell he's gone, and if he's even still alive. 
> 
> Anea is pronounced "ah-NN-yey"


	3. Roderick and Mountains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anea squared the man up, glaring into his eyes, trying to match the intimidation he was projecting onto her. A fight or flight reflex she had developed from fighting with her siblings.

Anea hated Chancellor Roderick. She had barely started to introduce herself; in fact she hadn’t even opened her mouth, when the ass started yelling orders about arresting her. As if she already wasn’t under arrest.  
What surprised her was Cassandra’s reaction. Her rebuke was laced with annoyance, making Anea want to shy away from her. Leliana was a little more collected, but still angry with the Chancellor. 

Within seconds the conversation chanced path, giving Anea whiplash. “Shouldn’t we close the Breach?” She asked, a little louder than intended. 

Roderick turned on her again; “It’s your fault we’re in this mess in the first place!” 

Anea squared the man up, glaring into his eyes, trying to match the intimidation he was projecting onto her. A fight or flight reflex she had developed from fighting with her siblings. 

Cassandra stepped in, breaking off Anea’s eye contact with the man. Anea scoffed quietly to herself but was mortified to find Varric had heard. He chuckled and folded his arms over his chest. 

“You cannot reach the temple through the valley with all your soldiers.” Chancellor Roderick explained.

“What about the mountain path?” Leliana asked.

Cassandra shook her head; “An entire squad was lost on that path. We cannot go through there.”

Leliana turned to Anea; “What do you think?”

Anea stood in shock for a moment. “M-me?”

Cassandra and Leliana nodded while Roderick seemed to throw his arms up in exasperation. Anea ignored him; “Well, the mountains seem safer.”

“Even after loosing people in there?” Roderick snarled.

Anea glared at him again and narrowed her eyes. She really didn’t like this guy. No matter how reckless it seemed, she wanted to prove that she could make it, and bring the missing soldiers out. Just to spite this guy. “We go through the mountains.”

 

Anea regretted her decision. It was cold. Her stubborn pride had not taken into account the fact her clothes were not made for mountain paths. She could feel the wind and snow getting under the fabric and chilling her skin, goose bumps rose in complaint. 

“A mining complex you said?” She called over her shoulder, down the ladder where Cassandra was following. Solas was behind her, Varric taking up the rear.

“These mountains are famous for it.” Cassandra replied, straining her voice above the wind. 

“And your solider are _in_ there?” Anea concluded. 

“Along with their killer.” Solas called up.  
Once they reached the top of the ladders Anea stood shivering for a moment. She feared that her fingers would be too cold to draw her bow, looking up she spotted a door, an open door but a door nonetheless. Seeking warmth she moved towards it. Only to have her heart leap into her throat when a Shade launched itself at her. 

She screamed in fight and grabbed an arrow from her quiver, jabbing it into the demons eye repeatedly till it dropped, twitching and dying. Screeches from further in the mine alerted her too more approaching demons; she strung her bow and pulled back hard on the drawstring. 

Steadying her breath she lined the arrow tip with the demon charging her, praying that Cassandra had enough sense to attack the Terror currently screaming at them from a short distance away. Letting the air leak out of her lungs she let the arrow fly. It gathered speed as it flew, columns of air clearly visible rushing beside it, till it struck the Greater Shade in the head, cleaving part of its skull in two and imbedding itself, flesh intact, in the stone wall. The Shade shuddered once then dropped to Anea’s feet; dead. 

“Impressive.” Varric noted, coming up beside her; “It takes a strong arm to deliver a shot like that.” 

Anea huffed a laugh; “I just didn’t want to have to shoot it twice. My fingers are frozen.” 

“Here.” Varric pulled an extra pair of gloves from his belt pocket and handed them to her. “They’re dwarven and probably not your size, but they’ll do till we get you better ones.”

Anea took them gratefully; “thank you.”

“We must keep moving!” Cassandra called, echoed by Solas as he entered the mine. 

It was relatively easy going through the mine. Anea only ran into a wall once, prompting Varric to laugh. She glared at him angrily. “I thought elves were meant to have really good eye sight in the dark.” He quipped.

“We do. I wasn’t paying attention. Too busy looking out for demons.” Anea replied, rubbing her chin where it had collided with the wall. 

“And you eyes even reflect like a cat’s do!” Varric exclaimed. 

“Yes thank you, I am very aware of that fact.” Anea growled, trying to shut him up. In order to do so she had to turn her eyes onto Varric, showing him the full view of her eyes reflecting what little light was bouncing around in the mines.

“Very scary, Grumpy.”   
Anea snorted. She stopped behind Cassandra when they reached the end of the path, at Cassandra’s feet lay dead soldiers. 

“These must be the men you lost.” Anea said quietly, feeling like a fool for saying something so obvious. 

“It seems.” Was Cassandra’s only reply. She cleared her throat and continued walking, the others following close behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post Mortem is a slow-burn romance fic centering around my Lavellan Inquisitor Anea (ah-NN-yey) and Cullen. 
> 
> I HC that Dalish elves have nocturnal eyes that reflect any light in a dark area, no matter how small or weak the light source is. This means that their eyes even reflect the stars. 
> 
> Anea is rather grumpy and pissed at the moment, but wouldn't you be after being accused of something you couldn't remember? 
> 
> Cullen will appear soon!!


	4. In which Anea finds herself not a prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voices, whispering. What are they saying?
> 
> “This is her?” A man.
> 
> “Yes, this is the one everyone is calling the Herald of Andraste.”
> 
> “She’s Dalish. How will she take that?”

Another rift sealed, a compliment from Solas, and a comment from Varric the set Anea’s guts twisting. What if the mark didn’t work on the big one? What would happen then? Anea didn’t want to think about it. 

They continued down the side of the mountain, sliding down the rungs of the ladders to same time. Anea was grateful Varric leant her the gloves; she shuddered at the thought of the splinters she might glean from sliding down the hard wood.

As they walked, or rather jogged, Anea stared at the destruction around her. Bodies frozen by the sheer force of the explosion, encased in rock, no doubt burnt from the inside. Anea tried not to look at them, her heartbeat quickening at the thought that one of them could be her brother. How would she explain that to her Keeper? The thought vanished when she heard fighting from close by, the sound echoed and bounced off the rock, making it hard to find where the source was.

“That is Commander Cullen and his men!” Cassandra exclaimed.

Anea looked over her shoulder at her, “Where?” She didn’t see any other people but themselves.

“I do not know, but they are fighting hard. We must close the Breach, quickly.” 

 

They descended into an alcove of the temple, bodies strewn about in various positions of running and escaping. Anea felt her stomach curl as they slowly walking to the temple, she looked up and stopped in her tracks. 

The biggest rift she had ever seen was squatting five meters in the air, moving as if it was breathing. No demons were emerging from it.   
“We need to find a way down there.” Cassandra said, stopping beside her.

“I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to reach it!” Anea snapped, motioning with her hand to the rift and the breach miles above it. 

“We must try.” Solas spoke calmly. 

They all turned when footsteps fell heavily on the entrance they had used. Leliana jogged up to them, a bow slung over her shoulder and several armed men and women following.

Cassandra immediately ordered them into positions before they all set off, trying to find a safe way down to the rift. 

“I see a staircase over there!” Anea pointed to the far end of the temple room to where a small staircase sat, surrounded by red crystals that were thicker than a pine tree and seemed to glow faintly. Anea didn’t like them. They walked towards the stairs.

“Seeker, this stuff is Red Lyrium.” Varric spoke, pointing to the crystals that littered their path. “Don’t touch it!” He grabbed Anea’s shirt, pulling her back from stepping on a crystal that was blocking their path.

Anea grunted in surprise. They stood for a moment, all looking at Varric. “What?” He said defensively, “It’s evil.”

Skirting the crystal they descended the stairs into the bottom level of the temple and approached the rift. The mark on Anea’s hand tingled and sent shocks up her arm as smoke surrounded them, a vision showing within the rift’s depths.

Anea glimpsed Divine Justinia, suspended in the air by some unseen force, a man impossibly all and disfigured stood before her, speaking. His voice echoed and grated against Anea’s sensitive ears. Then she heard, and saw, herself, opening doors that were not pictured.

The man ordered someone to kill her and Anea felt cold dread settle over her as Cassandra approached with a dangerous look in her eye. Before the Seeker could say anything Anea defended herself; “I can’t remember anything! I don’t know what was happening!”

“It doesn’t mater right now,” Solas yelled at the two of them, his patience clearly running thin. “We must open this rift and seal the Breach _now_!” 

Anea rolled her eyes in exasperation and thrust her hand towards the rift, with startling suddenness the rift responded and burst open, a creature that was seven meters tall leapt from the opening, roaring and jeering. It landed on its feet and laughed.

Anea felt like she was going to be sick. She felt a barrier spell wash over her and she looked at Solas for an explanation but noticed that Cassandra’s hair was standing on end; she had a barrier around her as well. Deciding not to question it Anea drew her bow, she saw Leliana’s men doing the same and they all released a volley on the demon at the same time. 

Arrows stuck out of the creature’s chest, head and back but still it moved with surprising swiftness. It turned on Anea, looking more annoyed than injured and started stalking towards her. 

Panicked, Anea dug around in her pocket for something to throw at it and found a cloak bomb. Throwing it at her feet she was engulfed in shadows and the light refracted around her as her body blended with her surrounds. She jumped into a roll to avoid being crushed by the demons foot and jerked her hand at the rift again. 

She heard the demon fall, the ground shook with the weight of the impact and she turned to find the demon on its stomach, more arrows protruding out of it’s back. It’s left leg was frozen solid and it’s right was quickly following suit. Solas turned to her and nodded, acknowledging that it was her that caused the demon to fall.

She aimed her bow and shot the creature in quick succession in the back of the head, effectively using half of her quiver till the demon screamed in pain and was still. Finally dead. 

“Quickly!” Solas yelled at her.

Thrusting her left hand up at the rift, the beams of light streaked to the heart of the rift and back again, burning and pinching her hand. With an almighty scream she yanked her hand away, fist closed, as the rift sealed with a crash that sent a shock wave knocking everyone closest to it back several feet. Anea glimpsed bright light streaking up to the Breach, sending a secondary shock wave through the sky, before her vision went black and she fell into a state of floating.

 

 

 

Floating

 

 

Darkness

 

 

 

Voices, whispering. What are they saying?

_“This is her?”_ A man. __

_“Yes, this is the one everyone is calling the Herald of Andraste.”_

_“She’s Dalish. How will she take that?”  
_

She’s warm. Comfortable. Sleep is better than noise. Let’s go back to sleep.

 

_  
“Who are you?”_

_“I’m the Herald’s brother.”_ Vol? Was it truly Vol? He’s alive?  
 _  
“Five minutes. Then leave.”_

_“Y-yes ser.”_

 

 

Anea found consciousness pulling her back from her dreams, this time it was here to stay. Groaning she moved her head slowly, taking in her surroundings. She was in a house. A warm house, can’t be a prison.

She heard the door open and she sat up quickly. A young Elvin girl. She gasped and dropped the box she was carrying, she dropped to her knees so suddenly Anea thought she might have fainted. 

“What’s going on?” Anea asked, swinging her legs off the bed so she could stand up.

“You’re back in Haven, my Lady. You stopped the Breach from growing, everyone has been speaking about it.” The girl spoke quickly, as if she felt she shouldn’t be in Anea’s company.

“How long have I been—“ 

“Three days, Mistress.” The girl stood, “I must tell Lady Cassandra that you are awake. I’m sure she will be pleased.” With that the girl turned and fled, leaving the wooden box on the ground.

Anea scrubbed the heel of the palm against her eye, watching the spot the girl had exited from. Escape sounded pretty easy now, back in Haven, obviously not in prison, but where would she go? She could close rifts, she was needed, and if she remembered correctly, Vol was alive and he was here.

Standing she moved to the door and opened it, only to be greeted by a great crowd of people, all saluting and whispering in awe. Anea cleared her throat and walked out, turning in the direction of the Chantry. As she walked she heard people whispering about her, it was the first time she hadn’t heard people calling her a knife-ear under their breath thinking she couldn’t hear. She didn’t know what to make of it.

She pushed open the Chantry doors and walked down the all, following the angry voice of Chancellor Roderick. Anea really wanted to punch that guy. She knew he was talking about her, how long had he been talking about her? As long as she’d been unconscious? It was about time it stopped.

Anea threw open the door and glared at him. He got the first word in again, ordering for her arrest. She threw her hands up and turned in a tight circle till she was looking at him again. This seemed to amuse Leliana who watched the exchange with a small smirk. 

Cassandra effectively dismissed Roderick, shutting his authority down with her own. Once Roderick left the room Anea scoffed and stared at Cassandra in exaggeration. The Seeker rolled her eyes and opened the book she had slammed on the table top.

Leliana spoke up; “Herald, there is someone who really wishes to see you. I will send for him.”

Anea looked at her quizzically. The air in the room was tense, the knowledge Anea had just been recruited into the Inquisition hung heavily in her mind. Not only had she been recruited, she was recruited into a position with a hefty amount of power.

Suddenly the door to the war room swung open and Anea turned. Standing in the doorway was her brother. Though younger than her by two years, he stood half a foot taller. She shrieked with joy and leapt into his arms, they gave each other a tight bear hug till he let her go. He promptly slapped her across the back of her head.

“Ow, Vol!” She complained.

“That’s for going and getting blown up, imprisoned, and recruited into the Inquisition!” Vol reprimanded. 

Anea kicked him in the shin, sending him down. “And _that_ is for disappearing after said explosion and leaving your bow! How many times have I told you to never let your bow go?”

Vol and Anea laughed at each other. “I guess I can’t ask for it back?” He said sheepishly, getting to his feet.

Anea shrugged “sure. You can have it back, it’s too loose for me anyway.”

Vol snorted in laughter before he wrapped his arm around Anea’s shoulder and lead her out of the room. A man slipped passed them, dressed in heavy armour that was covered by a bear fur surcoat. Anea paid him no mind.

“We’ll send Cassandra to bring you back when we need you Herald!” Leliana called after her. Anea waved dismissively over her shoulder.

“I have got so much to tell you.” Vol began when they stepped out into the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally got the first fight out of the way and now all my personal headcanons can some into play!
> 
> Special guest star Cullen Rutherford who has a name, but not a face, and then has a face but not a name.
> 
>  
> 
> Kudos and comments encouraged :)


	5. Siblings, Spys, and Secluded Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anea looked out over Haven, at the bustling of people. “You’ve been hired as a spy, I have become a Herald of a God we don’t even believe exists.” She paused. “Creators, what have we gotten ourselves into?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's very close to the game right now but I promise it's about to take a different turns. They'll be perspectives from Anea herself, her brother Vol, maybe their other two siblings, and pov from Cullen coming soon too. 
> 
> At this point Anea is not sure if she hates the Commander or just tolerates him.

“Long story short, after that damn explosion I was found by Leliana’s scouts and instead of killing me they brought me to her and I was recruited to work under the Spymaster.” Vol concluded.   
He and Anea had been standing outside the Chantry talking for over an hour about events that happened after they were separated at the Conclave. Vol had dropped his bow when the bridge collapsed, having been on it at the time, buried under the rubble he was lucky someone was able to dig him out, but mortified when he found his bow missing.

Anea laughed, which quickly turned into a grimace as the mark on her hand flickered. It had been doing that for a while now, flickering as if it was alive, and every time it did it sent pains up her arm. She looked down at her palm, scowling at the glow. Vol looked at it himself.

“That’s going to be hard to explain to Deshanna.” Vol said quietly.

Anea shuddered at the sound of their Keeper’s name. She shoved her hand in her pocket, “I don’t think we can go back yet.”

“What?” 

Anea looked out over Haven, at the bustling of people. “You’ve been hired as a spy, I have become a Herald of a God we don’t even believe exists.” She paused. “Creators, what have we gotten ourselves into?”

“Well maybe Deshanna wont want us to spy for her anymore.” Vol quipped.

“She had good reason, Brother. Without her knowledge our clan would have been lost long ago.” Anea replied. 

Her attention was dragged away from Vol when the Seeker pushed open the doors to the Chantry, she glanced around briefly before settling on Anea, somewhat surprised that she was close by. “We are ready for you, Herald.”

Anea nodded and pushed herself off the wall. She glanced back at Vol before following Cassandra into the Chantry. Her palm twinged slightly and she glanced at it.

“Does it trouble you?” Cassandra asked. 

Anea dropped her hand quickly, as if she was being punished for taking extra helpings at dinner. “I want it gone.”

“Does it pain you?”

“Greatly.” Anea admitted. 

“We will find a way to make it more bearable for you.” Cassandra opened the door to the war room and Anea entered.  
Before her stretched the large square table, this time it had two maps laid out over its surface, the leather pitted with old holes from troop movements and markers. A chest sat on one side, open and filled with different marker spots, some with ravens, some with bells, some with clenched fists. 

A few inquisition markers were already in place, piercing the leather in order to remain upright. One marker sat in the Free Marches in the general area of where her clan were currently camped. Anea’s chest tightened. What were they planning on doing to them?

“I present Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition’s forces.” Cassandra said once she had closed the door and taken her spot next to Anea.

“We lost many soldiers in the valley, and I fear we will lose many more.” The Commander spoke evenly. Anea was a little taken aback by what he had said, it felt like he was blaming her for taking the long way around the mountain. Anea glared at him softly, taking less than a second to size him up before Cassandra spoke again.

“This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat.”

“Andaran Atish’an” Josephine greeted, her accent having no trouble producing the fluid sound. 

Anea’s eyebrows shot up in astonishment, “You speak Elven?”

“You have just heard all of my knowledge, I’m afraid.” Josephine laughed nervously. Anea tried not to feel disappointed, she nodded curtly before turning to Leliana.

“And you know Sister Leliana.” Cassandra concluded.

Leliana smiled. “I am sure your brother told you about his new employer?”

Anea nodded. “Yes. He was quite…”

“Standoffish?”

“Excited, actually. It surprised me.” 

Leliana smiled, “then you know my position here is—“

“She is the Inquisition’s spymaster.” Cassandra interrupted.

Leliana sighed. “Tactfully spoken, Cassandra.”

Anea stood and looked around the room, all eyes on her. She cleared her throat; “That’s an impressive bunch of titles. I’m afraid I fee a little inadequate in your presence.” 

Josephine laughed and Cullen and Leliana smiled; “We feel rather inadequate in _your_ presence, Herald. After all, you have been called by Andraste herself.”

Anea smiled distractedly. She looked down at the map, staring at a marker that sat near Haven’s location. “So…why am I here?”

Cassandra stepped forward, addressing her as well as everyone in the room; “The magic needed to close the Breach is a great demand.”

“Which is why I thought it would be a good idea to approach the rebel Mages for help.” Leliana clarified. 

Cullen sighed heavily “I disagree. Templars could help just as much, if not more.”

Cassandra turned to the Commander, “Power is needed to close the Breach, Commander. If we can pour enough magic into the Herald’s mark—“

“That could destroy us all. Templars can use their abilities to suppress the Breach.”

“But not close it!” Leliana reminded them. “What your propose is pure speculation! We do not even know if—“

“ _I_ was a Templar…once. I know what they’re capable of.” 

Anea’s head moved back and fourth between them as they argued. _This is getting us nowhere._ She thought.

“Unfortunately, neither group will speak with us.” Josephine interjected, effectively shutting the others up. “That is mostly the Chantry’s fault. They have denounced us, and _you_ ,” She pointed to Anea with her quill, “specifically.”

Anea scoffed and folded her arms, “Well that didn’t take long.” She shifted her weight onto one leg, bending the other slightly. Josephine seemed to be troubled by this stance but didn’t say anything.

“Many people are calling you—A Dalish elf—The ‘Herald of Andraste’. This frightens the Chantry greatly, and thus the remaining clerics have called it blasphemy.”

“Chancellor Roderick spread the word didn’t he?” Cassandra growled.

“Our options are now very limited, we cannot approach either party for help at the current time. We need to use you, Anea, to build reputation.” Josephine continued like Cassandra hadn’t spoken.   
Anea looked at the Seeker while Josephine spoke, she didn’t look put off by the ambassador’s words but she did look uncomfortable.

“Hmm.” Anea responded, slightly distracted. 

Leliana leaned closer to the war table, “There is a Chantry cleric named Mother Giselle in the Hinterlands. She sent word a few days ago, wanting to speak with you. Her assets are far better than my own, if we can get her assistance it will be invaluable.”

Cullen took Leliana’s pause as a chance to speak; “While in the Hinterlands you could spread the Inquisition’s influence, make it spread like wildfire.”

“Yes, you are better suited than anyone here to extend the Inquisition’s hand to new allies.” Josephine agreed, looking from Cullen to Anea.

“Okay. I’ll go.” Anea said.

“Excellent!” Leliana called, the reached around the Commander’s large bulk into the chest and pulled a pyramid marker with a raven perched on top and slammed it down on the Hinterlands. 

“How long have you wanted to do that?” Josephine asked, amusement in her tone.

Leliana laughed, “A while. You should try it.”

Anea leaned over the war table, her curiosity and twisting gut getting the better of her. She pointed to the marker stabbed in the leather in the Free Marches. “What’s that for?”

Josephine rummaged in another box Anea hadn’t seen and removed a crisp piece of parchment. Anea recognised he wax seel as that of her Keeper, the Halla horns twisting in a circle in the blue wax. Anea grabbed the letter from Josephine a little too quickly, she mouth sorry as an after thought and began reading:  
 _  
Clan Lavellan offers greetings to the Inquisition and wishes it well in sealing the Breach that has opened in the sky. While some Dalish clans hate humans and wish nothing to do with them, Clan Lavellan has always dealt fairly with all and wished only for peace. That said, we have on occasion been forced to defend ourselves from those who saw us only as potential victims._

_It has come to our attention that your Inquisition is holding a member of our clan captive. She went to the Conclave only to observe the peace talks between your Mages and Templars, and we find it highly unlikely that she intentionally violated your customs. If she has been charged with a crime, we would appreciate hearing of it. If not, it would ease our concerns to hear from her to know that she remains with the Inquisition of her own will.  
We await your reply, _

_Keeper Istimaethorial Lavellan  
_

 

Anea read the letter again, breathing a sigh of relief. She felt her knees weaken and she wobbled slightly. Josephine took this time to explain, “We received that missive a day before you woke, we have replied in kind but had no response. We believe your Keeper wishes to hear from you personally.”

Anea folded the letter neatly and handed it back, her fingers trailing on the wax seel. She nodded. “Yes. I need to do that.” She turned to exit.

“Ah, Herald!” Cullen called her back before she left, “When will you be leaving for the Hinterlands?”

Anea blinked. “Give me half an hour.” 

“Cassandra, Varric, and Solas will accompany you.” Leliana said, as they started moving to leave the room. 

Cassandra walked passed Anea; “I will get our steeds ready.”

Anea looked over her shoulder at Leliana, “I thought we were going by foot?”

Leliana laughed, “No no. We have six horses currently under control of the Inquisition, but we need better ones and fast. In the Hinterlands you’ll also be meeting with Redcliffe’s old horse master, Master Dennet. If you can convince him to go back to work, I’m sure we’ll be provided with sturdy mounts.”

Anea nodded. Leliana and Josephine peeled off and entered a room off the side of the War Room. The Commander continued to follow Anea out of the Chantry, the noise produced by his armour set her teeth rattling uneasily. Unsure of whether or not he blames her for the loss of soldiers Anea elected not to say anything. 

Outside the Chantry it had begun to snow heavily. Cullen cursed under his breath and turned around, “Herald.” He said in leaving before closing he heavy doors behind him. 

Anea blinked a few times, staring at the wooden doors, the small Inquisition banner still hammered lopsided to the door. She lifted her hand up and rightened it. Pleased she walked to the cabin she was provided. 

Inside she found Vol sitting in front of the fire, rubbing his hands together. He turned when she entered, “I don’t think the clan ever camped in places this cold.” 

Anea moved to the desk beside the bed, grabbing a sheet of parchment and a quill, “We have, just not for long. We were always gone the next morning.”

Vol only grunted. “What are you writing?”

“A letter to Deshanna.” 

“I sent a letter to Frell and Myril this morning.” Vol added.

Frell and Myril. Anea smiled, Myril was younger than Vol by two years she was the clan’s First and already formidable in battle. Frell, he was their youngest sibling. At 26 he was the only one out of all four of them to have started a family of his own, taking a wife from a clan that had been scattered. Frell had two children of his own, two boys. Often Anea and Vol would take the two year olds out on a hunt, they always came back empty handed but they had fun nonetheless.

“Have they tried to contact us yet?” Anea asked, her quill scratching lightly as she wrote.

“If they have it hasn’t arrived yet.” 

“I might get Deshanna to send Myril to us, she could bring our ravens.” Anea said, turning to face him.

“That’s not a bad idea.” Vol agreed.

Anea smiled and returned to the letter.

_  
Keeper Istimaethorial Lavellan,_

_Fret not, your hunter and her brother is safe.  
We are not prisoners and have elected to stay with the Inquisition out of our own free will. Things have come up that cannot be explained and I am required to help rebuild the Inquisition of old._

_Unfortunately that means being called a messenger of a God we do not recognise.  
I ask, Keeper, for your blessing that we may remain strong in the face of this adversity._

_I also feel it is in our best interests if you allow the clan’s First to come and reunite with us, she may be needed in the days to come and I feel it will be on no loss to the clan if she is permitted to travel.  
Please inform her that she is to bring Horst and Flammel to us in Haven._

_Hunter Anea Di’halle Lavellan._


	6. Return of Roderick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she bent her knee slightly and cocked her hip to the side, further falling another half a foot below Cullen’s height. She wanted Chancellor Roderick to know that she was not impressed by his obvious attempt at getting attention.

“She did what?”

“Ser, she stopped the fighting between the Templars and Apostates on West Road.” 

Cullen reread the report the recruit had handed him; Scout Harding had written the report for the Herald, explaining how it was done. Cullen also held a copy Anea had written herself, shorter and with more words crossed out than kept. Supplies of iron, obsidian, spindleweed, elfroot, several logging sites, and damn near twenty new recruits were currently on their way to Haven. Anea also mentioned in her haphazard report that Master Dennet was on his way with several Ferelden Forders for the Inquisition.

“Ser she was also sighted hunting down several Great Bears, apparently following in another hunters footsteps.”

Cullen looked up, his eyebrows raised. He had expected the Herald to meet with Mother Giselle, clean up the fighting, then come straight back. News of her dragging Cassandra, Varric, and Solas all over the Hinterlands looking for bears, wolves, and rouge Templars and Apostates surprised him. 

With every camp she set up, the more her influence spread to Redcliffe, the village still locked to outsiders. She had nearly caused a fight trying to get in, only for Cassandra to drag her away by her ear.

“Yes, its all very sportsmen-like.” Leliana said beside Cullen. She dismissed the recruit with a swift nod and a gesture. The recruit closed the door to the war room behind him.  
“You do not think the Herald is doing a good job?” Josephine questioned, taking the reports from Cullen and doing a double take at Anea’s report. “I do think she needs to work on her assessments though.” She mumbled.

“That is not what I was saying, Josie.” Leliana clarified. She moved to the other side of the war table, leaning over the map. “Mother Giselle prompted the Herald to travel to Val Royaux to meet with the Chantry, to try and spread her good will there, but I fear many people will be waiting to ambush her, or worse.”

“She still needs to go.” Cullen said, “If we want more allies she needs to meet with nobles in Orlais as well as Ferelden.”

“And so she should not be hunting down every bear, nug, and ram in the Hinterlands.” Leliana prompted, raising her voice slightly in annoyance. “The sooner she gets back here, the sooner we can arrange a company to protect her.”

The other two were silent for a moment. “I agree.” Josephine said, “We must urge them to hurry, she has already been gone a month.” 

“It will take another four days for them to return.” Cullen mentioned.

“And so we send out the missive now.” Leliana replied, already scribbling on a piece of parchment. 

 

_Seeker,_

We are in need of the Herald to return to Haven to follow advice given by Mother Giselle. 

Time is of the essence, please depart for the Hinterlands with immediate haste. We expect you back in four days.

Nightingale

*****

Anea titled her head back to look up at the stars as they travelled from the Hinterlands. Once receiving Leliana’s missive they immediately returned to the Outskirts Camp and gathered supplies for departure.

Master Dennet and Mother Giselle travelled with them, as well as a small collection of scouts. Anea had sent the new recruits to Haven weeks before, along with the fresh horses provided by Dennet. 

They had been riding for three days now, stopping only to relieve themselves and replenish water skins. Dried meat was handed around whenever they felt like eating. The long days and nights of riding were beginning to affect Anea’s legs. 

Travelling with her clan she was used to walking and riding long distances, but the saddle she used now was not fitted to suit her _and_ the horse, just the horse, and her legs were beginning to pay the price. 

Solas came up beside her and followed her gaze. Like her, his eyes reflected the light though they seemed to reflect it stronger, as if he was enhancing it with magic. Anea was never sure. He looked down and caught sight of a book lashed to Anea’s hip, he hadn’t seen it before while they were traveling through the Hinterlands. 

“If I may be so bold as to ask,” he began, “but what is the purpose of this book.” He leaned over and tapping it with his knuckles twice. 

Anea tore her gaze from the stars and looked at what his hands had tapped. She reached down and adjusted her belt so the book was lying directly in her lap instead of falling to the side, “Just a sketchbook. Nothing of importance. My brother would rely on me to make maps of our best hunting grounds so we could return, I may have also filled by sketchbooks with aimless drawings of things.”

“Everyone needs a hobby.” Varric teased, Anea looked back at him and he winked. 

Changing the subject Anea asked Solas, “When do you think we’ll reach Haven?”

Solas looked straight ahead, into the back of the Seeker as she walked in front of the group. “I do believe we’ll see Haven’s flags before nightfall tomorrow.” 

“Thank the Creators.” 

“Not a fan of riding?” Varric asked, spurring his horse a little faster so he could come up on the other side of Anea.

“I do nothing but ride when I am with my clan, but I cannot stand this saddle.” Anea shifted position, standing in the stirrups for a minute to illustrate her point.

Varric laughed.

Anea couldn’t help but smile as she sat back down in the saddle, rummaging in her pack for another strip of dried meat which she chewed absent minded as she turned her eyes back to the stars.

 

*****

 

The setting sun cast orange light over Haven as Anea and her company returned. People turned to watch them, a few smiling, others barely given them a second glance. Once at the stables Anea forced her stiff muscles to move, dismounting in a less than easy fashion she slid from the horses’ saddle and almost fell when he feet slammed on the ground. 

Groaning loudly she forced her knees to straighten and proceeded to stretch them out. She was pleased to find Varric and Mother Giselle were also groaning, Mother Giselle more so than the others. Instead of handing her horse over to a groom to handle she removed the horses tack herself, carrying the saddle into the blacksmiths’.

“Harret!” She called. 

The blacksmith looked up from inspecting a masterwork one of his apprentices was working on and raised an eyebrow at the saddle in Anea’s arms. “My Lady Herald, what can I do for you?”

“I need you to modify this saddle. It fits the horse perfectly, but not myself.” Anea placed the saddle on an anvil near the door. She pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from her inner breast pocket and used a stick of her own charcoal to write numbers down. She handed it to him once she was finished, “my measurements. I’ll pay you ten gold pieces if you can finish it by tomorrow.”

Harret smiled and took the piece of paper, “Of course, Herald.”

With that she left, heading for the Chantry, walking a little slower than she would have liked. 

She yawned as she approached he large crowd out the front of the Chantry, but that yawn got caught in her throat when she heard them yelling and cursing each other.

“Your kind killed the Most Holy!” A templar with red hair pulled back in a small pony tail snarled at a mage.

“Lies!” The mage yelled, his voice loud in the templar’s face. “Your kind let her die!”

The crowd around the pair was charged, Anea felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as she approached, pushing passed mages and templars trying to reach the fighting pair before they came to blows. 

“Shut your mouth, mage!” The templar shouted reaching for his sword.

Anea disentangled herself from a group of mages who had closed ranks around each other. She ran to push herself between the apostate and the templar, aiming a well-timed punch to the jaw of the templar and a firm kick to the stomach of the apostate.

“Enough!”

Anea tripped over herself as she tried to slow down, barely catching herself before she hit the ground. She blinked, confused. The Commander stood between the templar and the mage, a firm hand on each of their chests, though the hand on the templar had more force behind it, a warning to him and those watching.

“Knight-Captain!” The templar started.

Cullen turned to him, glaring dangerously. “That is _not_ my title. We are _not_ templars anymore.” He swept his gaze over the apostates and templars gathered, “We are all agents of the _Inquisition_.”

Anea moved to step closer but was cut off by the voice of Chancellor Roderick. “And what does that mean _exactly_.”

Anea rolled her eyes so hard she gave herself a slight headache and winced. Cullen caught her eye momentarily, lip quirked in amusement at her action. He turned Roderick, arms folded over his chest. “Haven’t you done enough, Chancellor?”

“I’m curious, Commander, as to how your Inquisition and its supposed ‘Herald’ will restore order.” 

Anea came up beside Cullen, mimicking his stance though she was smaller than him by a foot and her shoulders were smaller. She probably looked like a child trying to copy their father; she bent her knee slightly and cocked her hip to the side, further falling another half a foot below Cullen’s height. She wanted Chancellor Roderick to know that she was not impressed by his obvious attempt at getting attention. 

“Of course you are.” Cullen said with an unamused tone. He flicked his wrist and everyone around them dispersed, only Knight-Captain Rylen stood behind. Cullen looked to him, “All of you.” He said. Rylen took the hint and saluted, leaving to return to his duties.

“We require a proper authority to guide the mages and templars back to order!” Roderick strained.

“Who? _You_?” Cullen laughed once, “Clerics who weren’t considered important enough to be at the Conclave?”

Roderick was quick to respond, “The rebel Inquisition and its so called ‘Herald of Andraste’? Pah!” He glared at Anea with such obvious distain she felt her gut twist. “A Dalish elf who was sent to _spy_ by her clan. I think not.”

Anea shifted so she was leaning on her other leg now. “When you find a way to close the breach and remaining rifts I wont protest you taking charge.” 

Cullen turned to her, questions reeling through his mind.

“You will also need to have a compassionate enough heart to _want_ to help. I was released months ago, I could have returned home. No. I stayed because my help is needed, I haven’t seen you lift a finger to help gather supplies, clear out rabid wildlife from once habitable areas, turn out your bed so a young orphan can sleep in a warm place tonight—“

“I see your point, _elf_.” Roderick snarled. He turned on his heel and marched into the Chantry, grumbling the whole while.

Anea scoffed over her shoulder at him and straightened her posture; Cullen unfurled his arms and let them hang at his sides. “He’s a pain in my Dalish rear.”

Cullen laughed. “He’s a good example of what you’ll expect in Val Royaux.” 

“So I am going to that pompous place of pretty skirts and snotty noses.” Anea walked into the Chantry, Cullen following close behind.

“Yes, we have agreed its best.”

“Yeah I guess I’m to blame for that decision too.”

“Yes. You very much are.” Cullen responded, holding the door to the war room open for her. 

“Ah Herald!” Leliana welcomed, walking to approach her. “We have reports of potential allies and recruits for the Inquisition. A Grey Warden in the Hinterlands, a Qunari Mercenary and his gang on the Storm Coast, not to mention the templars meeting in Val Royaux—“

“No one said anything about templars in Val Royaux.” Anea retorted. 

Leliana looked at Cullen, “Then what took the two of you so long to get here?”

“Chancellor Roderick.” Anea and Cullen said in unison.

Leliana sighed, “Looks like our plate just got bigger. You will go to Val Royaux first, report on anything and everything you find, please improve your method of writing reports, they are just like simple letters your write to your clan.”

Anea smirked.

“You will then travel straight to the Storm Coast and meet with this Qunari Mercenary, see what he wants, or dispose of him. Scout Harding has also met some troubles there, you will need to help.”

“And the Warden in the Hinterlands?” 

“I will send my own party to meet with him.” Leliana finished. “You leave in two days.”

“Give me a chance to get settled!” Anea protested, turning quickly to leave. She headed straight for the training yards, mindset on shooting a few dummies in the head to let off steam. Cullen caught up with her just as she reached the target range, he handed her a rolled piece of parchment with a smile before he walked to the sword fighting arenas to oversee the troops. 

Anea unrolled the parchment to find Deshanna’s neat slanting handwriting.

_Ainesma Di’halle Lavellan_

_I have sent your sister, the clan’s first, to meet you in Haven. She will accompany you in your endeavour. I planned on keeping her here but Volltrusse was insistent in his letter that she comes._

_May Fen’Harel take you both if something happens to her._

_Deshanna Istimaethorial Lavellan_

Anea smiled at the letter before pocketing it, most of her anger now subdued she loosed arrows at the practice dummies and targets, hitting each bullseye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ainesma" is Anea's proper name. Pronounced "Ah-NN-Yez-Mah" She uses Anea "Ah-NN-yey" because its shorter, easier to pronounce and quicker to write.
> 
> "Volltrusse" is Vol's proper name. Pronunced "Vol-Trus-SAY"


	7. Val Royaux and Sibling banter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Commander, Nightingale. May I introduce my sister, Myrilise Di’halle Lavellan. Third child of Di’halle and Strausse Lavellan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slight warning for assault mention

Val Royaux wasn’t exactly a big city by Anea’s standards, but it was intimidating nonetheless. Skirting the main square Anea found herself standing next to a bakery, the smell of fresh sour dough caught her nose and she turned to follow the scent till she was standing inside the bakery, mouth watering as she watched the baker pull a finished loaf from the oven.

He turned just as she reached into her coin pouch and placed three silvers on the counter then stood up straight with her hands clasped behind her back, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

The baker stood watching her with a questioning gaze, the steaming loaf still in his hands. Anea pointed to it and pushed the coins closer to him. The baker seemed loath to part with the loaf, he leaned forward and pushed the coins around the countertop, as if counting them would confirm they were there. He looked up at Anea under his brow when she cleared her throat. 

Sighing he wrapped the loaf in a light cloth and placed it with a thump on the countertop, pushing the coins into his hand before slipping them into his pouch.

Anea took the sour dough greedily and left the bakery, opening the cloth she tore a piece off and shoved it into her mouth, moaning almost lewdly as she ate. 

“Herald.” Cassandra’s voice snapped her out of her daze. She looked up at the Seeker, her cheeks full of bread. She broke a piece off and offered it to Cassandra who stood looking at the food before she took it and nibbled on it.

“We must keep moving, head to the middle of the square and see if we can talk some sense into the Chantry mothers.” Cassandra explained once she had finished her mouthful. 

“Can’t wait.” Varric grumbled. Anea hummed in agreement as she bit another piece off, tearing the loaf in half she wrapped her half up and put it in her sack and gave the rest to Varric, who took it, broke it and handed the last of it to Solas.

“Good people of Val Royaux! Here me!”

Anea swallowed her mouthful, the bread suddenly feeling heavy in her stomach as it stuck against her lungs. In the main square a crowd of people were gathered around a dais, on which stood the origin of the voice, a Chantry sister with arms out wide and a plea in her eyes.

“Together we mourn our Divine. Her naïve and beautiful heart silenced by treachery! You wonder what will become of her murderer, well, wonder no more!—“ the woman pointed harshly at Anea, “—Behold! The so-called ‘Herald of Andraste’, claiming to rise where out beloved fell. We say this is false prophet! The Maker would send no _elf_ in our hour of need!”

Anea felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle and the tips of her ears burn. She took a step towards the dais before she felt Varric grab the hem of her coat. She whirled on him and he shook his head frantically. She changed course, “ _Enough_!” She shouted, grabbing the attention of everyone around her, a few people audibly gasped but she didn’t care. “I will _not_ listen to these self-serving lies! We came here to talk!”

“It’s true!” Cassandra took the reigns before Anea could say anything damaging about herself or the Inquisition. “The Inquisition seeks only to end this madness before it is too late!”

“It is already too late.” The Chantry sister said, motioning with her hand where a group of templars lead by Lord Seeker Lucius were marching towards them. “The templars have returned to the Chantry. They will face this ‘Inquisition’, and the people will be safe once more!”

Anea shrunk behind Cassandra slightly at the sight of the Lord Seeker. He looked ill, but intimidating. He reminded her of a shemlen she had the misfortune to meet when she was fourteen, on her first solo hunting mission. She still had the scars from the dagger that kissed her hip and side.

Suddenly a templar brought his fist back and slammed it into the back of the Chantry sister’s head. She fell with a cry at the feet of the Lord Seeker.

Anea felt rage boil up inside her. Granted she didn’t like the Chantry sister anymore than he did, but that was no excuse to punch her to the point of serious injury. Her fists clenched at her side and she felt Solas put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from lurching forward and taking on the templar herself. 

“Still yourself!” Lord Seeker Lucius gripped the templars shoulder “she is beneath us.”

“How _dare_ you! You have no right to do this!” Anea shouted at him.

He turned on her, “I have the only right here. You are the imposter. And _you_ ,” he turned to Cassandra, “Creating a heretical movement, raising up a puppet as Andraste’s prophet. You should be ashamed.”

Anea stepped towards him as he moved off the dais, the templars following him. “Templars, one of your own commands the Inquisitions forces! Join us as he did!”

“We will not be leashed by your lies. You are no Herald, you are an _elf_.”

“But Lord Seeker, what if she really was sent by the Maker?” A dark skinned templar stepped up behind the Lord Seeker, concern in his eyes as he looked at Anea. 

“You are called to a higher purpose. Do not question.” Another templar spoke, effectively cutting off the man’s voice.

“Templars! Val Royaux is unworthy of our protection! We March!” With that the Lord Seeker lead the templars away from the main square. 

“Charming fellow isn’t he?” Varric flat lined. 

Anea just crossed her arms and grunted. “I’m sick of people point out my race like I don’t know it myself.” 

“Perhaps we should take our leave.” Solas spoke up from behind Anea, “I believe our purpose here is finished.” 

They all agreed. Anea lead the group back out through the main gates, reaching into her pack to begin nibbling on the now cold sour dough.

*****

“How had she managed to recruit not just the Qunari, but his entire band of mercenaries?”

“The Warden she recruited has arrived ser, as well as the mistress Sera, ser.”

Cullen rubbed his forehead with his gloved hand and cleared his throat. He knew they had spoken about recruiting, but the motley of people Anea picked up seemed to be at random, and they seemed useless. A Grey Warden, of Leliana’s insistence, who spent most of his time near the stables, a Qunari mercenary and his band of spies he called ‘the Chargers’ who were seen either at the tavern just down the path, or asleep in their tents, and now a young elven woman who spent most of her time drawing obscene pictures in the snow and on Cullen’s reports. He dismissed the scout quickly and closed his eyes against the growing headache.

“Ready to hear something worse?” Leliana came up beside him.

“Not really.” He said, eyes still closed. 

“The Inquisition received a letter from Gereon Alexius just past midnight this morning. He wished to meet the Herald in person at Redcliffe.”

“I thought we were going to try and talk to the templars first?” Cullen questioned.

“According to the Seeker’s report, that didn’t go as planned. Anea spent the next five days eating sour dough and mumbling to her horse.” Leliana explained.

“Hmm.” Cullen replied. He turned from the training yards and back through he gates of Haven, Leliana hot on his heels.

“I guess we just let her decide what is best.”

“Ser!” A scout ran up to him and saluted.

“What is it?” Cullen all but growled.

“Ser, the Herald’s sister has arrived. The Herald wishes for you and the other advisors to meet her in the Chantry.”

“Fine.” Cullen and Leliana walked to the Chantry after dismissing the scout. Inside they found Cassandra and Josephine talking with Anea and an elven mage. The mage was the same height as Anea and had long blonde hair. Their eyes were the same green as Anea’s and they had the same smile.

From one of the side rooms of the Chantry Vol emerged and Cullen was struck by just how much the three siblings looked like each other. Vol was the only one out of them to have dark hair instead of dirty blonde, but other than that they all looked remarkably like the other.

“Commander, Nightingale. May I introduce my sister, Myrilise Di’halle Lavellan. Third child of Di’halle and Strausse Lavellan.” Anea spoke.

“Myril is fine.” Anea’s sister said, giving each person a polite nod. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Josephine stated.

“Oh, Stalker, have you told our dear Myril your little secret?” Vol prodded Anea’s side; she edged away from his finger and slapped his hand.

“No, Vol. That is why it is a secret.” She hissed. “Not to be said around untrustworthy ears.”

Vol just laughed and put his arm around Myril. She stood a little bit away from him so he didn’t crush her staff as it lay across her back just as her older sibling’s bows lay across theirs.

Cullen cleared his throat, not wanting to disturb the family reunion, but needing to get Anea’s attention. “Herald—“

“Why do you let them call you ‘Herald’, Sister?” Myril spoke. “We do not believe in the Maker, or his bride.” 

Anea turned to Myril, “While I do not approve of such a title, I am unable to convince anyone to call me anything but ‘Herald’. I suppose I will have to live with it till this thing is over.”

Over. Yes, Anea was still hoping for something like her old life to return to her once the breach was closed and the blasted mark on her hand was no longer needed. A large part of her doubted that would happen, but she kept hoping.

Cullen tried again, “Lavellan, we—“ this time Vol answered.

“Yes, my dashing Commander?”

Anea’s eyes widened at her brothers comment and she tried to stop the blush that was beginning to creep over her cheeks. Before Cullen could respond to Vol Anea spoke up, “Okay, Volltrusse you’ve had your fun now be gone.” She waved her hands at Vol and Myril as a way of shooing them from her.

Vol and Myril just laughed as they exited the Chantry.

Cullen picked up where he left off, “We need to discuss whom you will meet with now.”


	8. In Your Heart Shall Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Envy cannot hurt you unless you let him. Do not let him.”

Cullen stood outside the door to Anea’s designated cabin, unsure if she was even in there, but he had searched Haven for nearly half an hour looking for her, with the exception of her cabin. 

She had decided to pursue the templars, taking her brother and sister with her for extra support if it was needed. Instead she had found herself facing down the demon Envy alone while Cassandra, the Iron Bull and Solas struggled to keep templars affected by red Lyrium away from her. Her siblings had been separated from her and they showed up later, beaten and bruised but otherwise okay.

They had returned to Haven with the remaining templars under conscription, and Cullen hadn’t seen her since. 

Steeling his nerves he knocked on her door and waited. He heard a clatter as Anea raced to put something away. “Enter.” He hear her call moments later. Her voice was broken and scared. 

Crossing the threshold he found the Herald sitting on the bed, her legs tucked up and her chin resting on her knees. She rocked back and forth slightly, breathing heavily.

“I read your report.” He said simply.

Anea laughed as if she was about to mock him but had no conviction behind the action. “Then you’ll know that I am in no mood to talk about it.”

“Your report did not say much. Your words were scratched, and you kept writing ‘I will know you.’” Cullen pulled a chair from the corner of the room and sat in front of her.

Anea rocked a little harder, suddenly she started muttering. “I am Envy. I will know you. I will know you. I will know you. I will know you. Cullen it took your form, mimicked your voice and told me it wanted to hurt me. It made you kill me, stab me in the back with one of my own knives.”

Cullen was a little taken aback by her sudden confession. He had suspected she was not recovering well, but he had no idea it was so bad. 

“It posed as me, fed my ambition, twisted what I wanted out of this.”

Cullen let her words fall from her mouth in an unending flow and tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. Cullen and Anea jumped suddenly when a plume of smoke signalled the arrival of another.

A boy stood in the middle of the room, his wide brimmed hat covering his eyes and forcing his hair into his face. 

“Envy is hurting you. I want to help. Envy is dead, you killed him.” 

Cullen had read in Cassandra’s report about the spirit boy who helped Anea escape the prison of her mind. While Cassandra hadn’t trusted him, Anea did. She willingly recruited him into the Inquisition and he hadn’t left her side since. 

Cole moved closer to Anea and placed a hand comfortingly over one of hers. Cullen felt his chest ache and he shook his head, confused. 

“Envy cannot hurt you unless you let him. Do not let him.” 

Anea didn’t move. Cole straightened before he backed away and left, using the door this time. Cullen watched him go.

Cullen heard Anea unravel herself from her tight ball and he turned back. She was watching him intently.  
“Are you okay?”

She said nothing.

“T-that was foolish, of course you’re not okay.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the right words but they kept eluding him. “What I meant to say was, I noticed you were having trouble recovering. Solas told me you take pleasure in drawing.”

Anea nodded, a small smile gracing her features. 

Cullen reached into the pocket of his breeches and pulled out a leather bound journal. He placed it on the bed and pushed it towards her, eyes cast down. “I thought it might help. A gesture of goodwill, of thanks.”

Anea reached out and took the book, feeling the soft leather underneath her fingers. She brought it up to her nose and inhaled deeply, welcoming the scent of parchment and leather. “Thank you.” She said quietly.

Cullen smiled and he cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose you’d care to join me on a walk around Haven?”

Anea looked up and quirked an eyebrow in amusement. He was trying to comfort her, to bring her out of the slump she was in. She found it endearing. She nodded.

 

They were quiet as they walked around the small camp they had set up. Often stopping to watch or correct troop training, several times recruits delivered missives to Cullen that he skimmed before folding and putting in his pocket to read later. They stopped on the edge of the frozen lake, Anea watched as the sun caught on the deep blue ice and reflected back into their faces. 

“I wanted to thank you.” Cullen said.

“For what?”

“For trying to get the templars to see reason. I realise that maybe it might not have been the best idea, and the mages could probably make things easier for us, but I still want to thank you.”

Anea was silent for a moment, “you’re welcome.”

“How are you?” Smooth Rutherford.

Anea shrugged. “I’m…scared.” She confessed. “This whole ‘Herald of Andraste’, massive breach, mark on my hand. I just want to go home and sleep under the stars with my clan.” She rung her gloved hands together, the leather rubbing against the mark on her left hand, catching the skin almost painfully.

“We’ll close it. Then you can return to you family.” Cullen said.

“What of the Inquisition?”

“Thedas may not need it.”

 

*****

 

The atmosphere was tense as Anea stood in the desecrated temple, her close proximity to the breach was causing the mark on her hand to crack and burn painfully. She tried to focus on the sound of Cullen’s boots as he marched back and forth in front of the templars, a handful of mages stood with them, ready to pour their magic into the Herald.

This was not going to be easy. She had no idea if she’d even remain conscious through it this time, or even live. 

Cassandra and Solas each gave her a reassuring nod before they fell back into step with the templars. Anea started forward; already she felt a force pushing against her as if she wasn’t permitted to approach the centre of the temple. Thrusting her left had up she felt the pain of the mark flaring to life as she began to try and close the breach, the clouds around the hole in the sky looked as if they were being compressed together by a giant hand, the shadows of Anea’s fingers hovered over the breach like claws. 

Clenching her fist a tremour rocked through her as the breach groaned and screamed, shrinking in size till she strained her arm away with a yell. The breach closed with a sound like thunder and everyone was thrown back. Anea scrambled to her feet but felt a wave of dizziness over come her, fearing another black out she dropped to her knee and tried to catch her breath.

A hand on her shoulder, boots in her line of sight, the feeling of another person beside her. She lifted her head to find Myril’s hand on her shoulder and Vol’s boots in front of her. Cassandra had approached her and reached down to help her to her feet. 

“You did it.” She said breathlessly. 

Anea huffed a nervous laugh and looked at where the breach had been, the clouds circled the sky as if it was still present, but there was no evidence of the sickly green light anywhere. “I guess I did.”

 

Back in Haven Anea watched as people danced and laughed, overwhelmed by their joy. Anea had trouble joining the celebration, Cassandra’s conversation a few minutes prior rattled in her mind. She absently rubbed her marked hand. 

“Care for some company?” 

Anea jumped and turned to find Cullen standing behind her, hands clasped behind his back. She shrugged, inviting him forward. They moved to sit on the edge of the ledge, their legs dangling down against the wall. 

“Are you enjoying the celebration?” Cullen asked.

Anea nodded slightly. “I guess so. I mean, I’m alive, my family’s alive, the breach is closed.”

“That’s a good a cause as any to be joyful.” Cullen commented. 

Anea smiled and turned to him. “I guess it is.”

They sat watching each other for a moment before Anea cleared her throat and looked down at her hip where the leather journal Cullen had gifted her was strapped, replacing her old one that was now sitting in a wooden chest in her cabin. “Thank you. For this.” She said, tapping the book. “It means a lot to me.”

“Have you been using it?” He asked hopefully.

Anea nodded. “I’ve spent the time just studying the faces of the people I see.” 

“Like who?”

Anea’s heart stuttered at the question. Yes she had drawn many of her companions, liking Vivienne’s profile a great deal more than her Keeper’s but almost ever third page there was a sketch of Cullen going about his daily work. 

“Uh…you know, people like Myril and Vol, Varric, Cassandra, Solas, Cole. Those kind of people.” Anea replied. It wasn’t a lie.

Cullen looked at her for a moment before he nodded, “Okay.”

“Ser!” A scout suddenly jolted them out of their conversation. They jumped away from each other, not realising how close they were.

“What?” Cullen inquired, watching the scout huff and puff as they tried to get their breath back.

“A…A massive force, ser, coming over the mountain. They fly no banner.”

“What? None?” Cullen scowled. He got to his feet, Anea following close behind, and began a swift walk back to the Chantry. “We need to withdraw the civilians and children before they get too close.”

“Ser!” Another scout. 

“Report!” Anea took over this time, clearly starting to fret.

“Most of the watch tower guards have been eliminated.”

“Shit they’re closer than we thought.” Anea muttered.

They all switched into a run towards the Chantry, grabbing people as they went. Anea had just urged a young elven boy to run with his baby sister to the Chantry when she heard screaming. She whirled around and saw the trebuchets fire one after the other before the people manning them were over run by templars and mages. 

“Holy Creators.” She mumbled. 

“Herald! We must get inside!” 

Anea turned and saw Leliana standing near the gates; Cullen had his arm on the door, herding people inside. Anea looked back to the trebuchets, one more fired before it was over run. 

Anea ran into the gates, praying to anyone that her siblings got in safely. The gates closed with a boom behind her. She stood around in a circle with Cullen, Leliana, Josephine and Cassandra. No one said anything for a moment. 

“Oh, Mythal what do we do?” Anea asked, her voice rising in panic.

“You need to calm down first,” Cullen said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “What we can do is—“

His sentence was cut off by something banging against the gates. “If someone could open it would be appreciated!”

Anea lunged for the door without a second though, fearing that some civilians were still out there. What greeted her was a flash of light and a body falling to the ground in a heap. Behind it a mage kneeled, head hung in exhaustion. 

Cullen and Anea raced forward to help the man to his feet. 

He pulled himself up before they could reach him. “I came to warm you, fashionably late it seems.” He fell sideways into Cullen’s arms. Straightening he shook himself before scanning everyone, eyes falling on Anea last.

“There you are! I cam to tell you what happened to the mages at Redcliffe. You’re not going to like it.” He paused. “They are under the command of the Venetori, in service to something called ‘the Elder One’.” He pointed, Anea followed his finger to a hilltop where a woman stood. Calpernia the mage said her name was, commander of the Venetori. What appeared beside her in a plume of smoke made Anea’s gut twist and she dry reached in fear. 

“They had already started marching on Haven, I risked my life to get here.”

“Cullen, give me a plan. Anything.” Anea said, turning to the Commander.

“Haven is no fortress. If we are to destroy this monster we must control the battle.” Cullen explained, a firm look on his face. 

“Right.” Anea drew her bow and pointed to Cassandra, “You’re with me,” she pointed to the mage, “You’re to be inside the Chantry.”

Cullen drew his sword and moved back to the soldiers lined behind them, “Soldiers, gather the villages, fortify and watch for advanced forces. Inquisition, with the Herald, for your lives, for all of us!”

 

What happened after that was a blur of moving forces and screaming people. Anea lead her party of Cassandra, Vivienne and the Iron Bull through Haven, taking back the trebuchets and helping civilians get back to safety. She rolled forward to avoid a ball of fire shot at her body and came face to face with someone hiding under a merchant’s cart. She blinked for a moment before she drew the dagger that was on her hip and held it to the man’s throat. 

“Ainesma, it’s me!” 

“Vol?” She quickly withdrew the dagger and pulled her brother out from under the decrepit cart. “What are you doing under there?”

Vol took a moment to dust himself off. “I ran out of arrows so I resorted to my daggers, only I was never as good as you and was over run. I got thrown into a wall and was blacking out. I can’t remember what happened after that, and then you found me.”

“Creators, Vol! I thought you were in the Chantry with Myril!”

“Myril isn’t in the Chantry! She’s on one of the trebuchets!” Vol explained, pointing to the south trebuchet.

“Shit.” Anea said firmly. She pulled Vol by the collar of his coat and picked up a bow from the merchants cart. “Here.” She gave him half her quiver.

“Herald!—“ Cassandra began, but was silenced when Anea unsheathed her second dagger, an assassins blade. 

“You’re with me.” She said to Vol, eyes turning on the rest of her party too.

The south trebuchet was swarming with Venetori when they reached it. Vivienne cast an effective barrier over everyone, the magic made Anea’s skin tingle and her vision was tinted blue momentarily. 

She wasted no time in throwing herself into the throng of the battle, slashing with her daggers at anyone who came close enough. Moving towards the trebuchet she disposed of the Venetori trying to arm it before climbing onto the ledge and drawing her bow.

With half a quiver she spent more time lining up her shots, using her strength to send single arrows through the chests or heads of more than one enemy. She caught sight of Myril using her staff to defend herself from a Venetori footman, throwing a barrier up more often than casting any spells. Anea cloaked herself in shadows and swiftly moved to the struggling pair. 

Holding both her daggers back handed she leapt towards the exposed back of the footman and drove them hilt deep into his spine, thrusting down she cut open the man’s back and stepped away as he fell onto a pool of his own blood just as the cloaking spell wore off. 

Myril stared at Anea in shock. “I didn’t know you had the guts to do that.”

Anea just raised an eyebrow. “You’re lucky you weren’t hurt or I would’ve done a lot worse.”

“Fire the trebuchet!” Cassandra bellowed, pointing with her sword to the machine. Anea looked around, the Venetori lay in heaps around them.

“Well.” She said as she walked to the trebuchet and primed it.

Unfortunately they hadn’t aimed it. The flaming ball of fire flew far left, over the head of the army. Anea could feel the unamused stares from her companions at the back of her head but she tried to make it seem she had meant to do that.

By some blessing the fireball connected with the side of the mountain, lifting snow and sending it tumbling down onto the army below, burying them. 

“Ah-Ha!” Anea yelled, she pointed at her handy work and looked back with a grin on her face.

The praised looks of her companions didn’t last long. The trebuchet exploded in a shower of red fire and wood splinters. A dragon swooped overhead, sending everyone ducking. 

“We can’t face it here!” Cassandra coughed.

“Everyone to the gates!” Anea ordered, taking off at a run. 

She heard the dragon roar, a loud noise that pierced her ears and caused more pain than the mark on her hand.


	9. Get Up and Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get up!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Injury, mentions of assault

The tunnel was their only way out. Their only hope of surviving the attack, and that meant leaving someone behind. Cullen was prepared to launch into a heated argument with Anea, their faces mere inches apart glaring at each other with such feral intensity that no one came within five feet of them.

“I cannot allow you to risk your life.” Cullen spoke between clenched teeth.

“And I cannot allow you or any one else to die for a tiny hope. I am most suited to surviving on my own against many enemies.” Anea responded in kind, speaking the truth.

“We do not have time to argue.”

“Then why do you insist?”   
They stopped speaking and glared for several more heartbeats. Eventually Cullen backed down, taking half a step away from her. He knew that she was best suited to find them again if her plan succeeded, he had seen her fight already and she returned with barely a scratch, the blood smattering her armour not her own.

“Fine.” He said.

Anea visibly relaxed. She moved forward and made to take his hand but stopped short, returning her arm to her side where she clutched the hilt of one of her daggers. She was heavily armed, Vol returned her quiver with an extra set of arrows and handed her his own snake blade in exchange for her worn Dalish slasher. Along with her bow and daggers she wore a small pack filled with healing potions and three flasks of bees, graciously given by Sera. She was apprehensive of using it though.

Anea turned to leave, grabbing Cassandra, Vivienne, and Iron Bull as she went. Cullen watched as her sister hurried to follow, placing a firm hand on her brother’s chest, a silent request for him to stay and help the evacuation. 

Before Myril could reach Anea, Cullen saw her flick her wrist and Vivienne turned and lifted her arms, the doors to the Chantry slammed just as Myril reached them and were sealed by the Mage’s ice magic. 

Myril screamed and began to beat her fists against the doors. Cullen reached out for her only to feel a strong aura of magic surround the elf. He flinched back suddenly, trying to speak.

It was Vol who got through to her. He placed his hand on her shoulder and she slumped against him. 

“We have to go.” Dorian spoke from further in the hall.

Everyone followed, carrying what they could on their backs and in their arms, several children were crying in fear as they clung to their parent’s clothes. Cullen was the last to leave, taking one last look back to the Chantry doors he heard shouting, undoubtedly from Anea, and he forced his feet to move.

*****

Anea’s ears were ringing painfully as she lay on the hard ice, her body twisted uncomfortably and stiff. How long had she been lying there she had no clue, but she knew she had to get up.

Slowly she uncurled the fingers in her hands, the mark on her left sputtered to life with a vicious crack and she cried out, which was quickly cut off from the pain in her lungs. She lay still again.

_Move._

She groaned. The voice chastising her was a cacophony of noises, her brother, her sister, the elven child she had carried into the Chantry, the Commander. She moved her head to the side as she willed her eyes to open, taking in her surroundings, a cave, dark and cold. She wanted to close her eyes again and just not move.

Was that so hard?

_Get up!_

This time the voice was solely her father’s. When she was fourteen and was attacked by that templar shem she had barely made it home alive and had collapsed on the threshold of her family’s tent. Her father had been kind he had helped her. He had asked her to get up on her third day of resting, and she did.

But she didn’t want to get up. Not this time.

_Mother will want your first pelt._

Why was she remembering that now? Why was it so important to her situation that her mind had uncovered the memory? She shifted, wincing in pain as she struggled to her feet. She still had her bow, three arrows usable the rest were broken and split. Vol’s snake blade but down her other slasher. No healing salves or grenades, no sketchbook.

She almost whined as she turned carefully on the spot, trying to find the leather bound book. It was barely half full, mostly packed with letters from her siblings and encouraging letters from Cullen that she had, for some reason, decided to keep. Her heart squeezed painfully when she couldn’t find it.

_Move._

She heard the voice again; this time it was Cullen’s. She limped through the cavern at a slow pace as strength returned to her limps. She found a sprig of young elfroot, the fronds far too young to be of much use but she stripped it anyway and chewed on the leaves, relishing in the small amount of energy it gave her. She continued.

“I’ll show you I can survive.” She spoke to no one in particular. “I’ll show that shemlen, I’ll drive my blade into his lungs I will. No one can stop me.”

She stumbled as she found an exit, huffing in excitement she moved forward but stopped suddenly when she found a shade surrounded by several wraiths. She had no time to hide before they spotted her and rushed her. 

She screamed and tripped backwards, hands flying in the air. She clenched her left hand and threw it open again, the same movement she used to open and close the rift at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. 

The air constricted and filled with a sickly green light as an almighty groan filled the cavern. The demons disintegrated before her eyes, their essence being sucked back into the Fade, before the rift she had opened collapsed in on itself and left her in an eerie silence.

Panting she stood and surveyed the rest of the cavern, once she was certain it was empty she continued to the mouth of the cave where she wasted on time in stepping out into the blizzard.

*****

_Breathe. You need to Breathe. Come on; force the air into your lungs. You can’t die like this, not out here, not after accomplishing so much._

Anea struggled to keep her eyes open, the snow and ice ravaging her face, the cold stinging her ears. Her fingers were blue, the colour began leeching into her palms and she jammed them into her armpits in a futile attempt at warming them as she ploughed through the thigh-deep snow. _Breathe._

The voice was unmistakably Cullen’s now; she struggled to hear it over the howling wind and the sound of her rasping breaths. Her throat was dry and raw and her eyelashes were frozen, the ice obscuring her vision. Her coat did nothing to stave the cold now, she could feel her skin freezing and her shivering was uncontrollable. She barely had the strength to fend off a lone wolf that had attacked her, using the last of her arrows she had killed it and clumsily taken its pelt but she had dropped her bow, dagger and pelt a long time ago. 

She felt the mountain grow steeper and she looked up to see an old fire rapidly being covered by the snow. She stumbled towards it and shoved her hands into the coals, having no regard for how long it might have been cold, if she burnt her skin she would have laughed at the sensation. Instead dull warmth met her fingers and she whined at the swiftness of its exit. She couldn’t get back to her feet so she crawled, her fingers stinging and her arms growing weary.

Eventually she found her cheek lying against the snow, she had curled in on herself in an attempt to stay warm, her eyes closed again and she drifted.

She curled tighter around herself, frustrated that she just couldn’t get warm.

*****

Cullen rubbed his eyes with the fingers of his right hand as the scouts reported another failure. He sighed heavily, “Are you certain?”

“Yes, ser. She is not in Haven.” 

“Then where could she be?” Cullen’s voice rose as he glared at the scouts. They exchanged looks with each other, keeping quiet. 

“Then go back and _look_!” A voice from behind Cullen rose, he turned to see Myril standing with her staff planted on the ground in front of her, her grip turning her knuckles white. “We can’t just _leave her_ there! She’s survived much worse than this and her stubborn pride wont let her die!”

“Calm yourself.” Cullen said. “Getting into hysterics wont help her or yourself.” He spoke mostly to himself, trying to remain level headed as the light quickly faded from the sky. They had been searching since sunrise, since they had emerged from the tunnel.

“Commander, we must find a place to camp.” Cassandra spoke beside him. He whirled on her quickly.

“How did you and everyone else who was with her make it out? _How_ did you let yourself get separated from her?” He was yelling now, his own advice be damned. 

“We were thrown away from her when the dragon attacked the trebuchet.” Cassandra explained in defence. “We turned back to get her but could not brave the avalanche!”

Cullen threw his hands up in exasperation before tightening his surcoat over his shoulders and grabbing his sword. He stalked off, back towards the mountain. 

“Where are you going?”

“To look for her myself!” He called back. He stopped when he saw Cassandra follow him. 

He looked at her with a confused expression when she reached him. “I want to help.” She explained before leading the way, walking back up the path to the mountain. Cullen sighed and quickly fell into step beside her, he turned to her determined to apologise but no words came out of his mouth.

They walked for what seemed like hours, the sun had long ago set and the chill in the air had begun to settle in their bones. Trying not to shiver Cullen climbed a small alcove and stopped, looking back down the trail to where the fires of their camp could be seen as orange spots in the valley. 

“Do you truly believe she would have survived a day of this?” Cassandra asked as she caught up.

“I do. I have to.”

Understanding eased Cassandra’s expression as they both continued the hike. Wolves began to howl in a chorus of noise, echoed by other packs. As the cold grew in intensity Cullen shucked his coat up around his neck so it covered part of his head too, his breath crystallised in the air and his eye lashes grew frosty. 

“There!” Cassandra’s cry jolted him and he stumbled as he looked to where she was pointing. Further up the trail an abnormal lump was outlined in the snow, as he stared the wind blew a snow drift and a patch of short blonde hair came into view, peppered with ice.

“It’s her!” He shouted, he almost slipped as he started running, covering the distance between himself and the Herald with ease. He fell to his knees and was mortified to find he had accidentally sat on her snow-covered fingers. He moved quickly even as he dug her out of the snow. “Anea!” He cried.

She was a dead weight in his arms and frozen. The tips of her ears were blackened with cold, as were her fingers. Patches of visible skin were raw and weeping with clear fluid, her right leg was obviously broken but he didn’t know how badly. He held his fingers under her nose, when he didn’t feel anything he moved so he could listen, his cheek almost touching her lips. He almost cried when he heard the smallest of puffs and hastily removed his surcoat and draped it around her before hefting her into his arms.

“Andraste preserve her, we must get her warm quickly.” Cassandra spoke, clearly in shock that she had been found at all. 

“Warn the healers.” Cullen said and watched as Cassandra jogged back to the camp. He set off behind her at a brisk pace, trying not to jolt Anea too much. He watched her face for any sign of consciousness, even when so far as to kiss her nose a few times in an attempt to bring colour back to it.

Back at the camp he had to manoeuvre around people trying to clutter around him, trying to see their Herald. He used his coat to cover her face a little more, making it harder for people to see the state she was in.

He marched into the healer’s tent and placed her on the cot that had been set up, reluctant to part he stood next to the bed, watching the healers as they immediately set o work. They inspected her hands first, an apprentice bringing a bowl of boiling water from the campfire and set about dragging her hands through the steam. As the apprentice worked the healers drew knives and cut away her frozen clothes.

Cullen’s breath caught when he saw the extent of her injuries, her right side was deep purple and smaller bruised peppered her stomach. Splinters laced her right shoulder and down her upper arm. Her right leg was wore than Cullen had seen, puss had gathered around a deep gash that had been inflicted to her thigh, her left leg was covered in smaller, yellowing bruises. 

Cullen barely managed to stop himself from staring when they cut away her breast band and smalls, revealing more injuries. He cleared his throat and tried to sit down so he could join the apprentice dragging her hands through the steam.

The head healer battered him away though and he stood again, “Let me help.” He said.

“You can help by staying out of our way.” She said.

Cullen stood for a few more moments before he looked at Anea and left. As soon as he left Vol and Myril who tried to get around him to enter the tent rushed him. He grabbed them both firmly and pulled them away. “You can’t go in there.”

“And why in Fen’Harel’s name can’t we?” Myril screamed, her face dangerously close to his.

Cullen felt his lip curl, “because the Herald is in no state to object!”

“So you’ll do it for her?” Myril poked his breastplate, her nail clicking against the metal.

“I speak for the healers when I say no one can see her yet.”

Myril snarled again before backing off. If Cullen hadn’t had the same experience with the Herald herself he might have thought Myril needed calming, but he knew now that it was just their stubborn personalities. 

He moved back to the entrance of the tent and stood guard. Throughout the night the tent flap opened and a few healers came and went. The apprentice returned his surcoat which he gladly pulled back on. Only when his eyes felt heavy and he felt himself sway with sleep did he move. He re-entered the tent to find only one healer with Anea now. 

Colour had returned to her cheeks and her leg was splinted, a bandage wrapped around her torso, protecting her broken ribs. “How is she?”

The healer looked up. “She’ll live, Commander. When she will wake I cannot say.”

Cullen dismissed her and he took up a seat next to Anea. The inside of the tent was warm, warmer than outside and he felt himself lulled into a dreamless sleep.


	10. Bickering and Bears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen moved to help her to her feet but stopped when she cried out sharply, breathing short and quick as she tried to dispel the pain. “Don’t move!” She said through clenched teeth.

“Commander we need to move, we can’t stay here any longer.” Cassandra pressed. She and the advisors stood just out of the fire’s warmth, away from where people could hear. 

Three days after finding Anea in the snow and the survivors of Haven were starting to feel edgy; everyone knew that their enemies could still be near. Two companies of scouts had already returned to Haven to see if they could find anything and both times had needed to hide from the Venetori.

Cullen sighed in agreement, “But where will we go? We can’t exactly travel fast with so many wounded.”

“It would be better than staying here.” Josephine agreed. 

The group stood in silence for a moment, thinking. Cullen looked up and found that clouds were starting to obscure the sun, heavy with snow. If they were going to move they needed to go soon. 

“Perhaps I can be of assistance?” 

Everyone turned at the sound of Solas’s voice. The apostate seemed to be severely underdressed for the weather but it didn’t seem to bother him. In fact he seemed to welcome the cold. 

“How so, Solas?” Cassandra asked, making room for him to join them. 

“I believe we will able to find sanctuary.” Solas explained. 

“Yes, but where?” Cullen asked. 

“Further in the Frostback’s, to the north.”

Cullen and Leliana looked at each other uneasily. The Frostback’s weren’t exactly the easiest mountains to hike in, much less lead an entire army’s worth of soldiers and civilians with only the clothes on their backs through. 

“If the Herald does not wake within the next few days this venture would be hopeless.” Cassandra explained. Solas was dismissed with a promise to study his words. The apostate left without complaint. 

“What do we do if she never wakes?” Leliana asked quietly, glancing over to the tent in which Anea had been placed. She spotted the Herald’s brother standing to attention in front of the tent, projecting a formidable front for anyone to approach. 

“What would you have me tell them?” Cullen suddenly burst, hand motioning to the gathered civilians. A few of the closer people turned suddenly at the Commander’s outburst but brushed it off when Cassandra rose to the challenge.

“We cannot simply _ignore_ this. We _must_ find a way!”

“And who put _you_ in charge?” Cullen snapped. “We must have a consensus or we have nothing—“

“Please,” Josephine cut in, rolling her eyes and throwing a hand between the Seeker and Commander. “We must use reason! Stop this foolish arguing at once!”

“The leader can’t come from nowhere!” Cullen interjected. 

This argument had been going for three days now. Without a proper authority the Inquisition would crumble, and they knew that. Despite not being officially named everyone knew Anea was best suited to the role, but with her injuries refusing to weaken their hold on her consciousness there was nothing they could do.

“This is getting us nowhere.” Cassandra said, effectively ending the argument once again.  
The advisors stood with rigid posture. Their sudden outburst had caused many of the soldiers and civilians around them to bristle with unease and steal sidelong glances at them. 

“Herald you must _rest_!” Came the frantic voice of Mother Giselle. 

“I must get those four to shut their faces!” Anea’s retort came seconds later. Cullen, Leliana, Josephine, and Cassandra all turned to see Vol peek into the Herald’s tent only to back peddle quickly as Anea threw the tent flap open. She was haggard and beaten and wore nothing but her bandages, smalls, and boots. She walked with purpose that was disrupted by a fierce limp in her gait, her broken leg causing obvious pain. 

Behind her Mother Giselle emerged, trying to coerce the elf back to her bed. Cullen was shocked to see the Herald awake, much less walking. She marched, or rather hobbled, up to the group and poked each of them in the chest hard enough to bruise. 

“I wake up two hours ago to hear the Inquisition’s advisors bickering!” She looked at each of them in turn, “about what I do not know, nor do I even care but their bickering has begun to but Haven’s survivors in a state of questioning! Do you really think that it is wise for the Inquisition’s advisors to bicker and fight when they should be thinking on a course of action?”

Cullen averted his eyes in embarrassment, Cassandra doing the same. Leliana and Josephine just looked at Anea in shock. 

“The enemy could not follow us through the pass, correct?” Anea asked.

Leliana nodded.

“Thanks to the efforts of everyone here! I should not be getting special treatment just because I’m Andraste’s Herald, so get your heads out of your arses and decide on a plan!” Anea tried to straighten her back but doubled over at the flare of pain in her ribs and shoulder. She pitched forward and Cullen stooped to catch her, she landed against his armour with a heavy grunt and a moan of pain. 

Cullen moved to help her to her feet but stopped when she cried out sharply, breathing short and quick as she tried to dispel the pain. She was gripping his upper arm, her nails digging in to the leather on the underside of his arm. “Don’t move!” She said through clenched teeth. 

Mother Giselle came forward with Vivienne, who promptly set about dulling the pain so Cullen could push Anea onto her feet, or rather foot, she held her broken leg an inch above the ground as she used Cullen’s bulk to steady herself. 

“Please, Herald. You must rest.” Mother Giselle prompted, calmer this time.

Anea nodded jerkily. Using her brother’s shoulders she half walked, half jumped back to the tent. She looked over her shoulder at the group before disappearing inside. 

The group was silent, staring at the tent as Vol re-emerged and began speaking with Myril. Eventually Leliana broke the silence, “Well…it’s good that she hasn’t lost her spirit.”

Cullen nodded in approval.

 

 

******

 

 

With Haven gone and nowhere really to go the advisors decided on following Solas’s course of action. Within a day the camp was packed up and everyone was moving. The Bronto’s recovered from Haven were loaded with the meagre supplies they had and the tents were lashed to the horses, many people carried their possessions and children were helped by either their parents or Inquisition soldiers. 

Anea had requested her leg be healed through magic, though she only let her sister perform the act. Her ribs were harder and the healers requested she use the healing magic only when life-threatening injuries were sustained. She could walk without hurting badly so she didn’t complain. 

She walked beside her companions, swapping stories with Bull whenever something arose though her laughter was always cut short by the pain in her side. Eventually she started lagging behind, holding onto the girth strap of a horse for support. 

“Why don’t you mount up?” Cullen asked. He had dropped behind to check on her, his concern evident on his face. 

Anea shook her head; “There’s no way I could ride with these fractures.” 

Cullen heard Rylen call the company to a halt. He looked up the front of the civilians to find no less than four large bears blocking their path. Immediately he thought of a route around the animals, for they showed no sign of spotting the mass of people. They were down wind the bears couldn’t smell them. He felt Anea straighten beside him as she too saw the commotion. 

“Would you look at that? They’ll feed everyone for a week.” She said.

“Are you seriously suggesting we kill those bears?” Cullen turned to her. She was smiling mischievously; she looked at him and winked. “Herald, there are four of them.”

“And this is an army is it not?” Anea asked, “It would be damaging to the Inquisition’s reputation if word got out that they ran from four tiny bears.” She paused before pointing to an elven scout, “I need your bow and six arrows.” 

Wordlessly the scout handed over the weapon and Anea pushed herself into the crowd till she found Vol and pulled him by the arm out to the side. Cullen had followed and he firmly placed a hand on Anea’s shoulder. 

“I cannot let you do this. You’re injured.”

“Don’t remind me, you’ll spoil the fun.” She said, voice low as they approached the bears. “Just tell your second in command to move the company further down the trail and we’ll be back before nightfall.”

Cullen groaned as Anea shrugged his hand off her shoulder. He watched as she and Vol crouched and disappeared into a thick patch of scrub.

Whirling on his heel he returned to the company where Cassandra and Rylen were standing. “We need to move back down the trail.”

“Where’s the Herald?” Cassandra asked.

“Gone to hunt the bears.” Cullen responded.

“ _What_! And you _let her_?” Cassandra yelled. 

Cullen hurried to shush her, frantically looking over his shoulder at the bears further up the trail. He could just make out the colour of Vol’s coat as he scaled a tree.

“We just have to trust her. She’ll be back.”

Cassandra made a noise of disgust before she turned back to the company. Together with Rylen, Cullen and Cassandra lead the group back down the trail till they were under and overhanging rock shielding them from the wind. There they made small fires while they waited. 

 

Anea knew she couldn’t climb the trees, her rips would protest and she’d cry out, alerting the bears to her presence. Instead she instructed Vol to climb the nearest pine, watching as he nimbly shot up the trunk and settled in the lowest branches, hidden by the needles. 

With him off the ground she searched till she found a pebble roughly the size of her palm and plucked it out of the ground. She used the bow she had borrowed to send the pebble straight into the eye of the closest bear.

It roared in pain and reared onto his back legs, exposing its jaw for Vol who promptly shot it through the jugular. It fell to the ground dead.

The commotion alerted the other bears and they roared in anger, one spotted Anea and it rushed her, fangs glistening with saliva. As it got closer Anea strung an arrow and waited till it was within lunging distance of her before she shot the creature in the eye, the arrow buried itself halfway up the shaft before the bear fell at her feet. 

Vol had jumped from the tree and landed on the back of the third and shot it twice through the back of the head. The fourth reared up and bellowed angrily. This bear was bigger than the other three and Anea realised with a jolt that it was a mother. 

Rolling away from the bears paws Anea cried out in pain and dropped to her knee, pulling back hard on the bow before letting the arrow fly. It flew into the open mouth of the grizzly and hit the bear’s skull with a sickening thunk. Vol had drawn his knife and sliced across the bear’s throat when it tried to twist towards him. It hit the ground with a dull thump. 

“Ha.” Anea huffed. She approached the nearest bear and nudged it with her foot. “Looks like we’ll be fed well tonight.” She unsheathed her slasher, returned by Vol when she had woken, and began to skin the bears. 

Minutes later Vol had returned with a group of soldiers with large hessian sacks. Anea had finished skinning the beasts and was beginning to cut the meat. She placed the meat in the sacks and hefted the pelts on Vol’s shoulders. Burying the entrails of the bears they returned to the company.


End file.
